Tempo Studies on Bruckner’s Sixth and Eighth Symphonies

I had first to choose a symphony with an extensive recording history, going back into the 1930s, which had copious and explicit tempo indications in the first published score to serve as a basis for evaluating changes. I decided to work with the Fourth, which was recorded by Böhm in 1936, Eugen Jochum in 1939, Walter in 1940, Furtwängler in 1941, and Kabasta and Knappertsbusch in 1944. Nearly 100 recordings of this symphony, in five major versions, have been made since!¹By 2010, well over 300.

The first published version of 1888 derives from a manuscript prepared by Franz Schalk (I, II, III) and Ferdinand Löwe (finale) and then given to Bruckner for his comments and revisions. Bruckner entered many modifications in his own hand, including extensions of ideas proposed by Schalk and Löwe. When he was finished, the score was taken to the publisher, Gutmann, with perhaps some final adjustments by Schalk and Löwe.²My source for the history of the Fourth is the recent dissertation of Benjamin Korstvedt (U. Penn., 1994), who is now on the music faculty of the University of Iowa. (2006: Clark University, Worcester, Massachusetts) In the Finale, in which lay my principal interest, the Löwe score contains metronome markings at the beginning (half note = 72) and also at the great unison theme at the first climax (half note = 66). Then explicit directions call for exact half-tempo at the second theme (thus quarter note = 66), with stepwise changes to somewhat faster tempos during the second theme group. At the third theme, the tempo of the unison theme (half note = 66) is re-established, and the tempo of the very beginning (72) is to be resumed only at the mysterious onset of the development. The manuscript specifications of this tempo scheme, at first in Löwe's writing, are continued through the movement in Bruckner's own hand. Do any of the recorded versions carry out these instructions? No!

Still, the earliest performances show some influence of the 1888 tempos, even when the conductor was using the newly-published Haas edition of 1936. Tempos tended to be brisk, though nobody made the great distinction between the tempos of the first and second theme called for in 1888. Then, in about 1953 or 1955, tempos started to become slower, particularly at the great unison theme near the beginning, and at the coda. In the last 40 years, the slowing has become extensive and inexorable, even in the work of a single conductor. At the same time the unison theme near the beginning has in modern performances become so distended and pretentious as to lose all shape and interest.³I presented these results in a paper at the Perspectives on Anton Bruckner II conference at the University of Manchester in England in April 1996. The paper included the following sentence: "This downward trend, already seen in whole-movement timings and conclusively shown in individual tempos, cannot proceed much further without fatally damaging the symphony."

The great virtue of the 1888 tempo scheme is its clear delineation of the structure of the exposition: first theme fast, second theme slow, first theme fast again. These stipulations cannot be ignored without lessening the capacity of the form to carry the listener along. I do not mean to suggest here that the listener must be trained so as to appreciate explicitly the details of formal analysis. Rather, the composer and the interpreter must collaborate in order that the listener may hear the composition most effectively. Thus the composer must create a simple, self-consistent, and complete system of tempo indications, and the obligation is particularly incumbent when the forms are large. In this respect Bruckner's manuscripts, which have been used as the basis of the Collected Edition, are essentially private, unedited documents, with rather few tempo indications. Only the first publications, largely ignored by the editors of the Collected Edition, contain sufficient tempo indications to tie up all the loose ends and bring out the form successfully.

To illustrate these points, my friend Aaron Snyder and I prepared a composite tape, taking excerpts from several performances to recreate the Löwe tempos. The result has a combination of stern dignity and warm, flexible lyricism that added up to much more than the individual excerpts might lead one to expect. We used recordings by Dohnányi and Janowski for the first and third themes, and Walter (1960) for the second theme. Dohnányi's steady grandeur, Janowski's meteoric intensity, and Walter's gentle urbanity together made a remarkable listening experience.⁴Maybe someone will soon put it all together in one performance! And in listening to the composite tape, one finally understands the secret of the 1888 scheme: the basic pulse is maintained throughout the movement, because of the strict half-tempo, and the movement sounds like a continuous and integrated structure rather than a concatenation of different and disjunct formal elements. Thus, conductors who do not follow these tempo indications, for whatever cause, are producing fragmentary, episodic readings as a result, and are contributing to Bruckner's undeserved bad reputation as a poor formalist.

An incidental result of the study was the demonstration that National Socialism had nothing to do with the change of tempos from fast to slow. Conductors with Nazi sympathies played both fast and slow; so did stern anti-Nazis! If the Nazis wanted more monumentality in their Bruckner, at least in this symphony there was not sufficient time during the thousand-year Reich to develop such a tradition. But, as we shall see, other symphonies have different histories.

The manuscript of the finale of the Eighth, found in Wn Mus.Hs. 19.480, has three metronome markings. They are reproduced in the Nowak editions of both the 1887 and 1890 versions, the composite Haas edition, and the first published edition of 1892. One occurs at the beginning (half note = 69), one is at the second theme (half note = 60), and one is at the recapitulation of the second theme (60 again). In the 1887 score there are eleven other stipulations, in the 1890 yet six more, while in the 1892 score there is a grand total of 65 tempo indications including the three metronome markings and their associated verbal expressions. The 1892 indications are not in conflict with the earlier scheme, unless one insists that absence of an indicated tempo change requires that no change be permitted. Just as in the previously-studied cases of the finale of the Fourth and the first movement of the Sixth, the third theme group is indicated to be played at the opening tempo (Erstes Zeitmaß); this is at m. 129 of the 1892 score (1890 m. 135).⁸If the indication had been kept in the Collected Edition scores, it might have served as a curb on today's conductors, who universally take the opening of the movement at tempos far exceeding 69. This matter is further discussed below. The added indications go on to specify what should happen concerning the lovely chorale in E major which appears 24 measures further on (1892 m. 153, 1890 m. 159). The chorale is marked Feierlich, innig in all three scores (1887, 1890, and 1892), this indication surely meaning that the tempo should be slowed substantially. However, only the 1892 score states where the normal tempo of the third theme is to be resumed, and that is not until an additional 24 measures have elapsed after the beginning of the chorale. By contrast, modern conductors who do not take account of the first published version habitually wait only eight measures to resume the previous tempo. Thus the great outburst in B flat, serving ultimately as the dominant of the exposition's closing tonality of E flat, and containing Bruckner's only use of the contrabassoon, loses the significance it would otherwise have as a place where both the tempo and the dynamic level must be suddenly stepped up.⁹The dynamic in the 1892 score at this point (m. 129) is mf, with a gradual crescendo, not attaining ff until 20 measures later. This is in direct conflict with the ff marcato of 1887 and 1890 at the beginning of the B-flat section, and can perhaps be derogated as a result. This kind of “orchestral crescendo” was also suggested for places in the Second and Sixth in the first printed editions, always in conflict with Bruckner's earlier specifications. These crescendos might be related in style to the huge swellings asked for by Löwe in the Adagio of the Ninth. I am extremely skeptical about them. Unlike the tempo indications, they have neither the necessity from the standpoint of form, nor the consistency with Bruckner's own methods, which should be required for them to gain general acceptance.

Another area in which the 1892 tempo indications clarify matters is in the alternation of thematic material in the first part of the development. This alternation is a trick which goes back to Schubert and before; Bruckner was to use it again in the first movement of the Ninth, and almost certainly also in that symphony's tragically uncompleted Finale. Here it consists of free development of the C1 theme, starting with its inversion at m. 285 (1890; the 1892 numbers are 6 less) and resuming with its tail-motive at m. 309, alternating with statements of the A2 theme, first at m. 301 and later at mm. 323 and 333. This structure is brought out by the tempo stipulations as shown in the following table.

The 1890 stipulation etwas breiter at m. 309 is the only indication in that score that the C1 sections are to be taken at a slower and more flexible tempo than the sections in which the discursive C1 accompanies the grand, stern A2. However, the markings in the 1892 score make the desired contrast in feeling between the two types of music very clear and explicit. And the Luftpause of 1892 is high drama indeed when properly prepared.

One more distinctive feature of the 1892 tempos must be detailed. This is a most remarkable alternation of beat lengths, reserved for the central climax of the developed first theme. This passage, which has perhaps the highest level of perceived conflict in the entire symphony, reaches through sequential extensions of A1, accompanied by a string figure derived from A2, the point at 1890 m. 468 where A2 itself must soon be heard from in the brass. In that measure the time signature is changed to 4/4 (sehr breit), and in the next back to 2/2 (a tempo). From this point on the measures alternate in time signature until in a three-measure group beginning in 4/4 an accelerando (belebend bis...) is made to an a tempo and 2/2. At the same time the thematic material alternates between A1 (broad, stately) and A2 (rapid, brilliant). Few conductors attempt to achieve this amazing and phenomenal effect, and fewer still are able to make it work. One of the most notable is Furtwängler who brings it off with incredible panache. Of course there is nothing like it in the 1890 score, but listeners with open minds will be thrilled by it when they hear it.¹⁰This passage requires for its execution on these terms a degree of faith in Bruckner's revision and a courage and selfconfidence which many conductors do not have. The case is similar to that of the mooted ritardandos restored by Nowak in the A theme of the finale of the Seventh, prompted by a letter of Bruckner and using the first printed edition as a source. Recently a young but well-known English conductor told me that these ritardandos were too difficult. I countered by saying: "Maestro, that may or may not be true, but they are authentic." Suggested in the 1892 score (by use of vi- -de marks) is a substantial excision of 58 measures (1892 measures 519-576, corresponding to 1890 measures 523-580). The effect of this cut is to remove the concluding, questioning climax of the first theme group, as well as the entire second theme group; the movement cannot be considered to be in sonata form if this cut is made. The cut must have been taken more often than it should have been. I possess an Eulenburg score of the 1892 version of the Eighth, sold to Fritz Eigl around 1920, in which in pencil someone suggests that the cut be taken six measures earlier, at 1892 measure 513 (corresponding to 1890 measure 519¹¹There are 6 measures of introductory material in 1892, but only 4 in 1890. In this respect the 1892 score is closer to the 1887 score.). This additional cut substitutes the 6/4 beginning of the third group for the 6/3 continuation of the material of the first group, creating an ugly solecism in voice leading which if heard in performance could not enhance Bruckner's reputation.¹²The shortening of the "fantasy on the second theme" in the development of the Finale of the Second Symphony, executed ad hoc for the performance of 1876, also created a voice-leading problem, in this case parallel fifths. In 1877, the cut was revised slightly and ratified, with a removal of the parallel fifths in word if not in spirit. Apparently Haas thought this adjustment was late and corrupt, because he did not follow it and thus forced Bruckner to stay with the parallel fifths he loathed; this was between measures 327 and 328 of the Haas edition, and was retained by Nowak. The new Collected Edition score of the late version will contain the linkage as modified under Bruckner's instruction in 1877 and printed in 1892. Note, however, that this is not the only case where a first-published edition suggests a huge finale cut that would eliminate the Gesangsthema! There is one suggested for the finale of the Second that eliminates the entire recapitulated first and second theme groups and skips to a point well within the third, and of course the Schalk version of the Fifth also eliminates the reprise of the Gesangsperiode, creating a much longer stretch of continuous fugal writing than Bruckner ever envisioned by himself.¹³I believe strongly that these vi- -de cuts were intended for emergency use only, as Bruckner himself wrote when proposing a similar cut in the Second in 1877: “Nur im höchsten Nothfalle!” Otherwise, there would be no way to explain why the editors of the first published versions provided tempo indications which so elegantly support the listener's comprehension of the form, while at the same time providing conductors with the means to mutilate that form beyond recognition. The 1894 score of the finale of the Fifth is of course sui generis and must be loved or hated on its own terms.

How are the tempo indications carried out in performances? To start with, there are the three metronome markings present in every edition. Every conductor of this symphony has seen these markings. But do any of them follow them? No, of course not! Instead, a tradition has developed in which the A theme is played quite rapidly and dramatically at the outset, and after about 12 minutes the Gesangsthema (B theme) enters in the guise of a renewed slow movement. Unfortunately the slight resemblance of the B themes of the Finale and the preceding Adagio contributes to the impression that the Adagio has been resumed. It is curious that although only in the rare 1892 score is there an indication for the C theme to return to the initial tempo, most conductors do get faster there. But they rarely come anywhere near the tempos they use for the opening theme, which can be as fast as 94! To my mind such hurried tempos falsify the movement completely, no matter how exciting they may seem at the moment. At present I know of only two recordings in which the opening is performed slower than 70. These are the Knappertsbusch studio performance of 1963, an exact half note = 69, and Klemperer's 1970 performance on EMI, an astounding half note = 63. The Klemperer is outrageous not only for his molasses-like tempos, but also for his cuts; he excises the codetta and three quarters of the development, as well as the entire third theme group in the reprise. (His Cologne recording has none of these flaws.) Koussevitzky made similar cuts, but they were necessitated by the 50-minute length of the radio presentation for which the recording was made. It is too bad that we do not have the complete recording.

The 1963 Knappertsbusch recording was described by the late Jack Diether in American Record Guide as sounding “exactly like a slow-motion film.” He went on to say, “It's a magnificent bore, but magnificent!” Perhaps his reservations came from the fact that after directing the first theme at exactly the specified tempo of 69, Knappertsbusch goes on to conduct the second theme at 42 instead of 60. In order to apply a systematic test to the recordings of the study, I applied two criteria to the measured tempos. The first was the “Bruckner criterion,” or criterion of 1887 and 1890, which measures the deviation of tempo of the opening from 69 and that of the two Gesangsperioden from 60. The other was the “Oberleithner criterion,” or criterion of 1892, which also included the deviation of the C theme from a resumed 69. The “winners” (low scorers) when these two criteria are applied are:

As the Oberleithner table shows, the recording that comes closest to the 69-60-69 contour specified in 1892 is Takashi Asahina's with the New Japan Philharmonic on Fontec 9054. As with the Fourth, Furtwängler's readings are close to the old stipulations, though the clear winner is the 1954 recording in which he actually used the 1892 version. The high scorers, those conductors most out of compliance with the metronome markings, include Knappertsbusch, Koussevitzky, Walter, Albrecht, and the egregious EMI Klemperer of 1970, with Bruckner and Oberleithner scores in the high 20s or even over 30. Some will be puzzled to see Karajan on the list of low scorers; he comes nowhere near the short lists for the other symphonies. Karajan does tend to play everything legato, which is particularly irritating in the scherzo.¹⁴Many listeners would rather have the tempos wrong and the articulation and the mood correct! The 1944 Karajan (Prussian State Orchestra) is extremely slow, bearing out Botstein's ideas, but over the years Karajan's Eighth grew steadily faster, tending to come closer to satisfying the demands of the metronome markings in the score. It is particularly interesting that there is no historical trend of tempos, or criterion scores, over time. Evidently the non-authorial tradition described above, that of a very fast A, a very slow B, and a moderate C, was already established before recordings started to be made. If the slow and ponderous Karajan performance of 1944 is a product of National Socialist ideology, it did not catch on at the time, and its perpetrator gradually abandoned its principles over the many years of his continuing career.

The performances led by Knappertsbusch are endlessly fascinating and enriching, even though they satisfy hardly any tempo criterion one may be able to establish. With little of Furtwängler's intellectual approach, they still have a personal quality of earnestness and lyrical grace that overcomes any objection one may have to the occasional sloppy entrance. Other performances of interest must include the Mravinsky, now available in the second large set of CDs (the Ninth was in the first set), the SuitnerCa splendid reading newly availableCand the Eichhorn with the Bruckner Orchestra of Linz in top form. Asahina's Eighths are his best work, and the more recent recordings seem to contain somewhat better playing than the earlier ones. The Fontec set of Symphonies 4, 5, 7, and 8 is lavishly presented and quite attractive. The performance of the first theme at 69 and the second theme at 60, returning imperceptibly to 69 as the third theme approaches, would produce a far more authentic allegro feeling than the frequent present practice, which as we have seen is to start with a minute-and-a-half of hysterical activity at 88, and then begin another slow movement at a tempo of 46. One must remember that Bruckner, a symphonist among symphonists, revered and imitated Beethoven, and Beethoven concluded his symphonies with robust allegros. Robert Simpson's praise of Celibidache for transforming the finale of the Fourth into another adagio is misplaced. It is possible, of course, to see beauty in a performance at any speed, but I should think that the beauty that proceeds from the composer's own specifications might have a chance to be greater and more profound. I must conclude this paper with an earnest plea to conductors: become acquainted with the complete and self-consistent stipulations in the first publications, and follow the tempo indications in the score!